


They Say Friendships That Make It Past The 7 Year Mark Last Forever

by mistie



Category: South Park
Genre: Friendship, M/M, friendships being mended ye, i'll change these tags later, implied self harm, implied underage alcohol use, there will be very little cartman here i guess but prob not ignored or anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1815250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistie/pseuds/mistie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>some shitty fic about stan and kyle as teens and preteens<br/>nice n boring with no hard drugs or death or weird aus or being middle aged<br/>just the way i like it</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i literally have only this written rn but posting this is pressure to get me to keep writing

Things changed around age eleven. Well, they changed at age ten, but Stan and Kyle entered a new chapter of their lives at age eleven.

Through the year before that, Kyle spent more and more time with Kenny. He even ended up spending more time with Cartman than he did with Stan. As for Stan, he wasn't really spending time with anyone. He could occasionally be found at the movies with Gary Harrison, or on the swings at the park with Butters, but largely he never left his room.

His parents spent time with each other.

Stan spent more time in his room.

There was a day seven months into the tenth year of Stan's life when they finally opened his door, and it was then that Stan finally saw a real professional. They don't like to talk about how they found him, but after that there were locks on various drawers in the kitchen and cabinets in the living room.

Two weeks after he began to visit Dr. Hersch ("Call me Rachel"), and almost six months since he had exchanged more than a few words with Kyle, Stan shows up at Kyle's house.

"Stan!" Sheila had exclaimed when she opened the door. Her eyes grew wide before they crinkled with the pressure of a wider smile. She ushered him in and fussed about, patting his covered head and proclaiming _just_ how long it had been since she'd seen him. Stan felt queasy, and it got worse when Kyle started coming down the stairs. Each slow creak made his heart beat faster and by the time Kyle reached the bottom, Stan was actively swallowing against the heaving in his throat.

Kyle quickly skirted around Stan and the ten year old boy hissed at Sheila, "What the hell mom..."

Stan swallowed again.

"Kyle, Stan came here to see you again! Isn't that nice?" Sheila rubbed her wrists and glanced towards the kitchen. Kyle rolled his eyes. "I'll go make you boys something to eat..." The sound of her slippers as she hurried towards the back of the house seemed deafening as Stan avoided Kyle's eyes.

"So, hey dude…"

Stan was swallowing again. "Hey..."

Kyle pursed his lips as Stan watched and forced a of burst air out of them and Stan’s stomach fluttered and his chest clenched and he was turning towards the linoleum entryway and vomit splattered over Kyle's flip flops.

~

That night was the first night that Stan and Kyle slept in the same bed since they were little. Stan shakes in Kyle's arms the whole night and the shoulder of his shirt becomes soaked as Stan presses his face against it.

Before they manage to drift off to sleep, Kyle's chest feels tight and for Stan it feels like the first time in a long time that his hasn't.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time, Kyle visits Stan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello.... i'm back here's the second chapter... idk if anyone even remembers this bc it's been what? 7 months? i'd like to say i've been busy but not for the first 3 months of that so oh well. it's here now.

The next day is a Tuesday and when Kyle wakes up, the clock glows with the numbers 5:21. Technically he has almost two hours before he has to get up, but he doesn't feel tired after the 10 hours he's just slept, so he lays awake. Stan breathes softly next to him, and while part of Kyle feels so good to have him there, there's a sour feeling in him.  
  
He stamps it down and rolls on his side, facing Stan, and breathes in his breath.

~

Stan tries to identify what /exact/ sort of noise his sneakers make on the carpet. Like, in a cartoon or comic, y'know?  
  
"Stan."  
  
Maybe... _ffff_?  
  
"Come on, Stan. We want you to talk to us."  
  
Naw, something like, _shff_ would be more likely.  
  
"Now, see here, Stan! You do as your mother tells you!" Randy's exclamation caused his parents to dissolve in to a whispered, yet aggressive argument. This gave Stan more time to consider the particular sound effect.  
  
If it was one of those backwards black and white ones that Craig and Clyde liked to read... Well, Stan liked to read them, too, but it went mostly unspoken that Craig and Clyde were total losers for reading them so he never would dare ask his parents for some. Craig usually considered him chill enough to let him read one with him on the playground or on the bus. Anyway, if it was one of _those_ comics then it would probably be a weird sound like-  
  
Stan was suddenly, and forcibly, dragged out of his thoughts by a firm and hairy hand wrapped around his arm. Randy's scowling face was tilted down at him. His mother's lips were in a tight, worried line.  
  
"If you can't talk then you'll just damn well think, and you'll do so in your room until you can talk!"  
  
The large hand wrapped all the way around his thin arm yanked, and he was led upstairs by the pain in the socket that connected it. He stumbled forward and the door was slammed. It did absolutely nothing to muffle the screaming match outside it.  
  
Hands bracing him over the ground, Stan sighed. And then thought about how he was probably far too young to sigh like that. And _then ___he thought about how, actually, he's damn near eleven and can sigh about whatever he wants, because as an almost-pre-teen it's practically required to be melodramatic. So Stan sighed again, feeling that his family's lack of understanding and tact fully justified plenty of pouty exhalation. It's not that Stan had anything to hide from his parents, it's just that, well, he wasn't comfortable with them. Stan wasn't comfortable with his parents like Kyle usually was with his, or like Kenny was with his sister. And anyway, Rachel had told him that he never had to tell his parents anything. That if he did, he should offer it freely. Being yelled at and manhandled into talking did not seem very free to Stan, so he was planning on keeping his mouth shut, in his room, until forever.  
  
As Stan was sitting down at the edge of his bed, about to resign himself to an eternity of Kingdom Hearts II, there was a scratching sort-of scrambling noise outside his window. Followed by a _thwack! ___, and a muffled, “ _shit! ___" Then the window was thrust open and a bright red puff of hair tumbled onto Stan's carpet.  
  
Stan felt his face break into a wide grin, and something low in his chest clenched at the thought of Kyle actually coming to visit him, as though everything was okay again. (Maybe it was? Stan tried not to be too optimistic about it).  
  
"Hey, dude!" he exclaimed around his grin. Kyle finally stood and shook his head, dislodging a couple of leaves from his currently wild hair. His face was flushed and lips were parted as he breathed heavily from the exertion of climbing the tree outside Stan's window. "What, uh... What are you doing here?" Stan was glad he'd still kept his window unlocked every night, even though for the first weeks of summer that Kyle had never showed up had hurt him enough to want to lock it.  
  
"WELL," Kyle yanked off his jacket and rolled his eyes, clearing having been eagerly waiting to tell Stan whatever he had to say, "so , I was like, 'Hey mom can I go over to Stan's house for a while?' An' she's like," here his voice adopted a pitchy Jersey accent, eerily similar to his mother's voice," 'Well bubbie you _know_ that Stan an' his family are having family-night tonight,' an' I was like, 'Mom that's totally gay there's no way that Stan wants to do that' and then _she_ got all like pissy and started lecturing me about homophobia and some uncle I have on the east coast."  
  
Stan appropriately rolled his eyes and grinned.  
  
"So by the end of it she'd totally forgotten what we were even talking about and I just left and came here," Kyle finished, and plopped himself next to Stan on the bed, lying on his back. He turned his face towards where Stan was sitting and smirked. "From what I heard from downstairs, though, it seems like you guys aren't having family night after all."  
  
It was Stan's turn to be exasperated. "It's not like, what you would think a family night would be, even. Family night is like, board games and snacks and a movie and stuff, y'know? And fun. We just had microwaved dinners and my dad drank a lot and we tried to watch NCIS together but it kinda fell apart. Shelley never even came downstairs." He shrugged. He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about it with Kyle. He was still feeling unsure about where they stood with each other.  
  
Kyle seemed to sense this. The boy wasn't the best with emotions or reading people, but Stan saw the sad, accusing look on his face and he knew that Kyle could tell that he wasn't sharing the whole story. For a moment, it even look as though Kyle was about to open his mouth to say something, but he closed it slowly and furrowed his eyebrows deeper. Stan looked away.  
  
Not only did Stan not know where he stood with Kyle, he wasn't even sure where he wanted to stand. Part of him (a large, very tired part of him) wanted things to go back to how they were, exactly. But at the same time he knew that wasn't what was best. Stan wanted to be able to /talk/ to Kyle, wanted to feel like Kyle cared. There was also a piece of Stan that just didn't feel like bothering with anything and wanted to have Kyle with him all to the time to make him feel better; he missed Kyle, and he missed feeling okay.  
  
Or whatever.  
  
Kyle shuffled next to Stan. He looked as awkward and uncomfortable as Stan felt. Then Kyle noticeably next to Stan, and a shaky, sweaty hand landed on Stan's arm.  
  
"When you, uh... If like, you wanna like, talk about stuff, dude... I'm here? When you feel like it?" Kyle looked like he was going to have a heart attack just uttering the words, and he couldn't even look at Stan.  
  
But for Stan, it was all he ever wanted to hear.

**Author's Note:**

> ok like  
> this is the first time i've written at all since my homestuck days im so sorry if you actually read this  
> i plan on continuing ? and hopefully breaking my 18 year curse of writing only short garbage
> 
> EDIT: yes it has been months but I'll be posting another chapter Soon


End file.
